Creature comforts

A tiny crab greeted me this morning. He clung to the boarding ladder and waddled sideways on the teak rung when I poked him with my wet finger. My morning swim perked me up more than my two cuppers of tea ever could but when it culminated in two beady little eyes staring up at me from a tiny, nearly translucent crustacean? I just stared back with a grin and wondered what his little eyes were seeing. If I made his morning just as he had made mine? I stopped poking the little guy and looked down into the water. Sometimes schools of fish congregate under the boat or you can see the sandy or rocky bottom. Or eel grass sways in the current. Once or twice I've thought I've seen large shadows flash below. I try not to think on such things as my emotional wounds from watching Jaws when I was way too young still split open and fester when I am alone in the water, especially at night. Scuba diving with reef or nurse sharks, not a problem. I absolutely love being in the middle of swarming vortex of fins and teeth. They are amazingly graceful and couldn't give two hoots about me. It's the whole on the surface thing that freaks me out. Kind of like stepping on seaweed when wading out into the ocean or sinking into river mud- you just don't know what lurks down there. I do know there are sharks around. Tigers and bulls so I hear. The kind that are a little nuts and pretty aggressive. They sometimes eat people. I just choose to think they avoid the area when I'm swimming around the boat.

At the fish market we picked up some fresh local mahi for dinner. I marinated it in ginger, lemongrass, garlic, and coconut oil and served it up this evening with a lovely wild rice blend next to local green beans and carrots sautéed with garlic and butter. So fish on a plate, you lost your golden scales but picked up a nice buttery brown hue in my pan.

On the motor down to pick up the guests and spend the night below the towering Pitons, we saw the ultimate sea creature. Well, the captain spotted it just off the bow and yelled down the hatch for me. I couldn't hear what he was saying as my music was blasting (thanks music giving friends!) as I wiped down the entire boat with the ubiquitous vinegar and water solution, made beds, restocked the cooler, reorganized the packed fridge locker, sweated my balls off. I ran up on deck and he yelled and pointed, "Whale!" I watched as the humpback spewed mist into the air and arched his dark gray back. We slowly motored past as he rippled the surface with his movements. Then! Then? He made me into a whistling, clapping, smiling fool as he arced his body one last time and raised his white patterned flukes into the air as he dove. It was like getting a high five from your most adored. I whooped and hollered back hoping he would resurface but was happy with the send off.

I picked up my cleaning rag and set back to work but smiled and whistled and sang aloud for my whale the rest of the afternoon.